


A Thousand Years for You

by FudgingPastry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Humanstuck, Post-Sburb/Sgrub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SBURB is over, they've won, but though they have their memories, Karkat and John have never lived during the same time period. Until one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Years for You

I kept my head down, staring at the sidewalk as I walked. The day was so damn sunny; it was hurting my eyes. I wished it would cloud over. I wished the sky would pour down in a torrent so hard that it would wash everything away. I stopped, squeezing my eyes shut. Images flashed through my mind: dreams, nightmares, people, a golden moon, a rainbow of blood, and… a game. I dreamed of the game often. I never understood it, but sometimes I would dream of other places. I would see myself – it was like I was staring at myself from an outside perspective. 

I saw me working out in a field, the sun beating down on my back. I would glance at my sickle and there would be this tug of memory, of emotion, but I would wake before I could figure out what it was. Another time… did I drown? I remembered falling back and water swallowing me up. I remembered dying, but how could that be possible? I was alive now… right? Other times I was a soldier and I would be cleaning my blade. All the while, there was that tug of emotion, the feeling that I was missing something…

Someone bumped into me, quickly apologizing before turning to laugh about something…

Wait.

My head snapped up and my mouth slowly dropped open. That laugh… I  _knew_ that laugh. I stared at the guy walking away, laughing with his friends. My gaze flickered over every feature, every line, goddamn it, even the way the blinding sun shone on his face, I looked at it all. I recognized it all. I felt my face heating up. His backpack had my symbol on it! The symbol on my arm as I worked in the field. The symbol that was always the same no matter what dream I had. The symbol in gray on a black shirt hanging off a failed leader’s shoulders as he tried – oh how he had tried! – to keep his team together. It was on his  _backpack_!

He opened his eyes – blue, windy blue – and stared back at me. The glasses were the same stupid rectangles, I thought idly. His face flushed and slowly, oh how fucking slow it was, I watched him recognize me.

The rush of emotion almost brought tears to my eyes and a broken smile spread across my face. A sob of pure joy escaped me and I felt all those eyes staring at me, but I couldn’t fucking care less. His backpack hit the ground the exact moment I jumped into his arms, wrapping him tight to me and smashing my lips to his.

“Hey Egbert.”

“Hi Karkat.”


End file.
